


William vs the Homo-Geneous World

by thetasteofsunshine



Category: Love Simon (2018), Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli, Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Based on Love Simon, F/M, M/M, evier is the penname for the mysterious boy will is falling in love with, the relationship between el and mike is very brief, will is a happy gay in the end
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 12:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14694132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetasteofsunshine/pseuds/thetasteofsunshine
Summary: Will Byers, a junior in high school and a not-so-straight theater kid, finds a new friend online who is also closeted.And when Will's messages between him and his friend fall into the wrong hands, things start to get worse than Will ever wanted them to be.





	1. Chapter 1

ho·mo·ge·ne·ous

 

hōməˈjēnēəs

 

_adjective_

  1. of the same kind; alike.





	2. Chapter 2

I had to admit, this was not what I expected to be doing on a Tuesday night. I expected to be on my phone, maybe looking through my class schedule to memorize it.

I didn’t expect to be standing three feet away from my desk, staring at my laptop screen, where the thin words “Create Your Google Account” shined in bright, black letters. I don’t really want to move from my spot three feet away from my laptop, but at the same time I should have closed that distance and been typing away. But here's the thing.

I‘m scared.

I’m just a scared teenager in my first day of junior year, standing three feet in front of an open laptop and being too afraid to bridge the gap.

Today was good, though.. First day in the school year, a little stressful, but all around fun to see my new classes. Today was the one day in the school year where I was excited for school, before the stress settled in and it actually became hell.

And then I went home, where Max texted me to check out hawkinswhispers _ , _ the Tumblr account our school made.

It originally started out as a fun school blog, where you could submit math help and meet new friends. As expected, it turned into the gossip hub for anything and everything happening at Hawkins High. Max follows the blog religiously, and she’s always gossiping about how Tommy and Sara are having sex, or how Nicole Summers was snorting cocaine in a broom closet.

So when she Facetimed me (it’s as if she hasn’t grasped the concept of texting, I swear to God), I just sort of expected her to be ranting about how Richie Tozier finally managed to fail a quiz.

I sighed and answered her call. The first thing she said? “Check the new post on hawkinswhispers.”

“No.”

My finger hovered over the  _ end call _ button before-- “It’s about the closeted gay kid at school.”

I tried to keep my expression neutral.  _ “What?” _

“Yeah, it’s--”

“Oh, Chess just threw up all over my floor.” Chester perked up at his name, lying on the pillow in the corner of my room. He in fact did not puke. “I’m gonna have to call you back.” I practically threw my phone on my desk as I ended the call before Max could say anything else, sliding into my chair and wildly typing  _ tumblr.com _ into the search bar on my computer that was sitting open.

Hawkinswhispers popped up immediately, and I read it quickly before leaning back in my seat, thinking only,  _ thank God it’s not me. _

Oh yeah. I think I forgot to mention that.

But I didn’t really think it was a big characteristic of me. Of my personality. It was just a trait of me, I guess. Max likes to stalk hawkinswhispers. Jonathan likes to cook. Will is gay. Life goes on.

And then I realized what this meant.  _ There’s another closeted gay kid at school. _

I live in a very conservative town, and the only out guy at school is in the year younger than me, Eddie Kaspbrak. He's the pitcher on the baseball team, which means nobody tries to beat him up unless they want to get clobbered in the face, although he still gets a lot of hate on his tendencies to wear girls’ shorts.

But the thing about Eddie is that he simply oozes  _ gay, _ even before he was out, so nobody was exactly surprised when he was found kissing some guy from another team. Mike Hanlon, I think.

So this Tumblr post was really surprising. 

I read through it more carefully. It was surprising in the way that all of the words were spelled correctly and there was actual punctuation.

It was a poem, and I guessed it was an original.

_ “Smile,” they say, _

_ “You have good grades.” _

_ “Smile,” they say, _

_ “You have both parents. _

_ That’s more than most can say.” _

_ “Smile,” they say, _

_ “You have a pretty girlfriend.” _

_ But do they know? _

_ Do they know I'm scared? _

_ Scared to be myself? _

_ Do they know, _

_ That good grades aren't everything? _

_ Do they know, _

_ That I’m actually gay? _

_ I don’t know. _

_ I don’t know, _

_ And even I don’t know why, _

_ I’m the only one who knows. _

 

  * __Evier__



 

There was a picture of the sky surrounded by trees below it, as if he had laid on his back in a forest and taken a picture.

I scanned around the post some more, finding  _ sent from evier.maple@gmail.com _ in the top corner.

Who sends a Tumblr post from their emails? I didn’t even know you could do that.

Anyway, I kind of really wanted to try talking to him, maybe. So I clicked on the little blue link.

And that’s how I ended up here. Standing three feet away from my computer like it’s a cursed object with a bright little screen displaying “Create Your Google Account.”

I already said I was a coward.

I jump as the sound of the front door closes with a bang. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to slam it,” I hear faintly. Jane’s home.

_ Now or never, I guess. _

I walk over to the desk. Easy peasy. Right?

Right.

Typing in the characters. I don’t know why I was stressing about this.

_ Username. _ I glanced around my room, looking for inspiration. The bed was unmade, although my floor was spotless. Chester was asleep and snoring. My eyes rove up the walls, stopping on the vinyl hanging above the headrest.

The Clash.

I hit the  _ next _ button.

I can do this.

I can’t do this.

I close my eyes and inhale, taking a deep breath.

I practically jump out of my swivel chair as my dad bursts through the door, and in a force of habit from staying up late and pretending to be asleep, i slam the laptop shut.

“Oh, was I interrupting something?” he hesitates, his hand still on the doorknob. “I was just coming to tell you we’re all waiting to watch  _ The Bachelorette _ , but if—”

“No Dad, sounds fun!” I try to sound convincing. I don’t think it works. I hop up out of my chair, although my hands are still placed firmly on my laptop, as if it holds all of my darkest secrets which, when you think about it, it does. 

“Really? Because you can go back to jerking off to sexy pictures of Gigi Hadid if you want—”

My eyes widen. “Oh my god, Dad!”

“No?” I walk towards my door, and he steps out of the way as I step into the hallway. “Scarlett Johansson??”

“No.” He follows me as I trod down the stairs.

“Emma Watson? Jennifer Lawrence?”

“ _ No! _ ”

“Halsey? I heard she likes girls too but—”

“Okay, fine, if it gets you to shut up, then yes, I was!” I turn to him, and although he’s literally a foot taller than me, I try to glare him down.

“Well that’s not something you should say to the police chief,” he says smugly.

“It is if  he's your dad,” I grumble, and I turn into the living room, where Jonathan is setting up the TV.

“Ooh, you got him down from his room!”  Jane walks out of the kitchen with Mom behind her, both holding large bowls of popcorn.

“Haha, very funny,”  I say in a monotone voice, grabbing a handful of popcorn and shoving it into my mouth as she plopped down on the couch next to me. “We’re all laughing over here.”

Jonathan hits play before she can retaliate, and her head snaps to the bright screen like a magnet. See, my family loves to watch shows like this. Me, I think it’s too heteronormative.

“I hope it's Josh,” Jane says from her perched position on the couch.

“Josh?” Dad asks. “The gay one?”

“Jim—”

“He's not gay!” Jane defends.

“You serious? He's such a flamer, he's smoking at the ears! Right, Will?”

“What? Yeah.” I remember my mom saying once that she'd rather have someone tell her to the face that she was ugly than overhear someone else calling another lady ugly.

Maybe I'm understanding that a lot better.

I try to go back to the TV, but my thoughts are too jumbled to focus on what I'm watching.

When the bowls are empty and the screen is black, I sloth my way up the stairs. And then I remember what I left.

I sit down at my desk and open my laptop.

_ Now or never. _


	3. Chapter 3

FROM: indescisionsbuggingme@gmail.com

TO: evier.maple@gmail.com

DATE: Sep 2 at 11:23 PM

SUBJECT: please respond

_ Dear Evier _ ,

_ I’m just like you. _

_ I live a pretty normal life. My parents were the perfect love story, my mom working a low-end job to become pretty successful, and my step-dad is about as awesome as anyone can get. My brother likes photography  and enjoys making weird foods that always seem to taste good (he made kale pancakes that tasted too good to be real. I’m still sure he’s putting sugar in it when he keeps insisting he’s not). _

_ I have the greatest friends anyone could ask for. Two of them, I’ve known pretty much my entire life, one being my sister (how embarrassing is that? A sister as a best friend…). The other I met just a few months ago, but it feels like I’ve known her just as long. _

_ We do everything friends do. We drink way too many caffeinated drinks, stay up together far later than we should, and we spend way too much time on social media. _

_ So yeah. My life is pretty normal. _

_ Except I’ve got one huge-ass secret. _

I look around at my room for a second time, at the books stacked up on my shelves. One of the pictures on my nightstand showcase that one time Dad drove us two hours to see a play. My fingers type at the keys once again.

_ —Horatio _

I take a deep breath before clicking the mouse.

_ Send. _

And now I wait.

I step away from the laptop, closing it for the night and going to bed.

That next morning,  everything is normal. Too normal, almost, as if nobody knows I just kinda told someone my secret. Evier is the only one who knows.

If he’s even read the email yet.

It’ll probably be put in the spam folder.

But I take my normal shower, so long it’s freezing by the time I’m out. I check my phone.

Nothing.

I get dressed and hop down stairs, skipping every other step, almost tripping over Chester in the process, who decided to come bounding down the stairs at the exact time I did. Jonathan is in the kitchen, handing me a piece of toast as I headed out the door, not even looking back to see if Jane was following me.

I check my emails as I get into the car, finding nothing of interest.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?”

I jump as Jane leans over, trying to look at my phone’s screen. “Nothing,” I say as I slide my phone back into my pocket.

“Is it a pretty girl?” she guesses. “Aw, did Willy-Will finally find a girl that actually likes him?”

I tell her to shove it as I pull out of the drive, and she in turn flips me off, not even looking in my direction. I ignore her as I turn down Maple Street.

_ Maple… _

evier.maple

Did my phone buzz? I swear my phone buzzed.

I’m startled out of my thoughts as I almost drive into a trashcan.

I stop in front of Dustin’s house, and I take the chance to check my phone again.

_ Still _ nothing.

I drop my phone as Dustin climbs in, wild hair bouncing.

“You _ won’t  _  believe what I dreamed last night.”

“Oh, again with the dreams, Dustin,” Jane turns her head to look at Dustin sitting in the back of the minivan (Yes, minivan. My parents got it from a friend of theirs who was looking to get rid of it).

“This one is interesting, okay?” Dustin defends as I start heading towards Max’s house, which was just down the street. “I was on a train, right?”

“Is this another one of your infamous dreams?” Max asks as she climbs in next to him.

“Yeah! And I was on a train, but everything was strangely blurry.”

“Hmm… What does Freud say?”

Max looks expectantly at me when she says this, mainly because I was the only one that did Psychology last year, and the main thing we studied was dreams.

“Well, good ‘ol Sigmund said that dreaming of trains was analogous to a dick, so…”

“Maybe you wanted to jerk off!” Jane jokes from the passenger seat. “Will does it all the ti—” I try to smack her in the arm while keeping my eyes on the road.

“I do not!”

“Maybe it means you’re not seeing what’s right in front of you,” Max offers. “Like… like maybe you have an idea or an inkling of something, but you still don’t see the full picture. what'd you think, Will?”

I think of what is in the email I sent the mysterious Evier. “No idea.”

I pull up in front of the school, snagging a good spot, away from the kids that like to smoke cigarettes and kick tires.

We all pile out of the car, making our way to our separate classes.

“Nice hair band, Carri, is it new? Oh, new haircut, James? Lookin’ good! Oh, Will!”

Mr, Newby is standing in the hall, doing his morning ritual of greeting students. Just like he did in my freshmen and sophomore year.

“How are you? Nice jacket, even though you wear it every day. Where’d you get it?”

“It’s from a teenager store, Mr. Newby. You can’t enter if you’re over the age of nineteen.”

“Aw, darn.” Mr. Newby shakes his head jokingly as I make my way through the halls and into first period English.

The rest of the day goes surprisingly smoothly, the only even someone interesting occurrence happening at lunch, when Richie Tozier dropped his tray and got applesauce everywhere.

When he sits down at the table, socks soaked in cinnamon, he starts a loud conversation with his fellow baseball player, Lucas Sinclair.

“Did you hear about the gay kid on hawkinswhispers?” he says loudly, shoveling fries into his mouth.

“I did!” Max sits in between Richie and Lucas, practically draping herself over the latter.

“Does anybody know where Jane is?” I ask, ignoring my redheaded best friend. I love Max, but this is just too much heterosexual PDA for me.

“Probably sucking face with Mike somewhere,” Richie throws out, and I try to keep myself from gagging.

“That is the worst mental image I have ever thought of.”

Mike. Jane’s boyfriend. He’s in my theatre class, but that’s about all I know about him except for the fact that he’s Richie’s cousin.

I look down at my phone, planning on checking my email. I open the app and am met with the  _ no internet connection _ popup.

Right. There’s not service in the building.

“Again with your phone!” Max sighs. “Will, this is the third time today.”

I roll my eyes and ignore her, getting up and heading toward one of the breezeways, knowing I might be able to get at least a couple of bars.

“Oh, Will. William. Willy-Man.”

I look up and find Mr. Newby walking toward me.

“Please don’t call me that.”

“You know the rules. No phones in the hallway. It can cause a collision. So I’ll be having  _ that. _ ” He points at my phone, still in my fingers, and I reluctantly hand it over. “Walk with me.”

I apparently have no choice as he hooks his arm around my shoulder in a  _ I’m trying to relate to you _ kind of way.

“I remember being a youthful spirit such as you, except I rode a bike instead of surfing the interwebs and killed monsters from another dimension instead of waited for texts from girls.”

“Yeah,” I chuckle uncomfortably. Mr. Newby can be weird.

“So you can have your phone back after school, okay?” Mr. Newby muses. “And you can go back to class.

He walks away at this, whistling to himself  as I’m left standing in the hallway.

Today has been weird.


End file.
